Chapter Sixteen – Caleb
After dropping Hannah at the garage to check on her car, Caleb drove away with two feelings warring inside him: the lingering warmth of yesterday’s perfect afternoon at the vineyard, and the cold confusion of her sudden withdrawal this morning.
He rolled down the window and sucked in the cool morning air, but it did little to settle his troubled thoughts.
His bear, however, remained oddly serene. She’s our mate, he hummed contentedly. Nothing has changed that.
But it felt as if everything had changed.
Caleb could feel it as clearly as the shift in weather before a storm.
Yesterday at the vineyard, with wine warming their blood and water freezing their feet, Hannah had been open and playful.
They’d splashed in the stream like children, shared stories, and touched hands.
For those golden hours, it had felt inevitable that the two of them would find their way to each other.
Like it was a done deal.
Like fate had won.
As it usually does, Caleb’s bear said with utter conviction. Fate will not fail us.
Then something had shifted. By the fire last night, when she leaned toward him, he’d chosen patience over impulse, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead rather than claiming her lips. And this morning, she’d been polite, distant, and practical. Building walls between them with every careful word.
“What did I miss?” he murmured, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel.
You gave her space, his bear reminded him. That’s not a mistake.
It sure feels like it, Caleb replied, wishing he could turn back time and kiss her. Kiss her senseless, as he’d wanted to do since the moment he’d first set eyes on her on the side of the road.
The restaurant came into view, its sturdy timber frame a constant in his life since childhood. Today, he was grateful for its familiar presence, for the routine that waited inside. He needed grounding, and work had always provided that.
Caleb parked and entered through the back door, the weight of the keys in his hand a comfort as he unlocked the kitchen entrance. Inside, the restaurant was quiet, that particular early-morning quiet that held the echoes of yesterday’s conversations and the promise of today’s.
For a moment, he stood still and remembered the echoes of his conversations yesterday with Hannah. He sighed as he recalled making breakfast for her, of them sitting in the sun in the courtyard, seeing the sun on her face, the way her eyes widened as she tasted the pancakes with honey.
But what conversations did today promise him? Goodbye.
He clenched his jaw. If Roy had completed the repairs on Hannah’s car, that was exactly the conversation the day promised.
Not going to happen, his bear said firmly.
Caleb did not share his bear’s confidence. But he wanted to believe that he was right. That his mate would stay.
To distract himself, Caleb worked his way methodically through his morning routine, checking prep lists, reviewing reservations, and examining produce deliveries. His body knew what to do even as his mind circled back to Hannah again and again.
His father’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You’re here early.”
Caleb looked up to find Thaddeus standing in the doorway, his expression thoughtful. “Had some prep to catch up on,” Caleb replied, the excuse thin even to his own ears.
Thaddeus nodded, not challenging the obvious deflection. “Coffee’s on,” he said instead, moving toward the kitchen.
Caleb followed; maybe coffee would help clear his head.
In the kitchen, his mother was preparing dough for the day’s bread. She glanced up as he entered, her eyes immediately taking in more than he wanted to reveal.
“Morning, honey,” Eleanor said, her tone casual, though her gaze was anything but. “Sleep well?”
“Fine,” Caleb replied, accepting the mug his father offered. It was true. He’d slept well because when he went to bed, he believed everything was fine.
And then we woke up, his bear said dryly.
And then we woke up, Caleb agreed.
His parents exchanged a look, the kind of silent communication that came from decades of marriage. His father leaned against the counter, arms crossed, while his mother continued working the dough, giving him space to either speak or remain silent.
The quiet stretched between them, comfortable yet expectant. Outside, birdsong filtered through the partially open window.
“You didn’t have to come in this morning,” Thaddeus said. “We expected you to spend the day with Hannah.”
“Hannah’s gone to check on her car,” Caleb said casually.
“Ah,” his father said, as if that explained everything. In a way, perhaps it did.
Eleanor looked up, flour dusting her hands. “She’s still planning to leave.”
“She is. Although she offered to work another shift today,” Caleb added, staring into his coffee. “To say thanks for my hospitality.”
His mother’s hands stilled briefly before resuming their work. “That’s kind of her.”
The understatement hung in the air, begging for elaboration. Caleb took a deep breath, feeling the weight of unspoken thoughts pressing against his chest.
“I thought after yesterday she might consider staying a little longer,” his dad said.
“So did I. But then something changed. I think I screwed up,” he admitted finally, the words rushing out.
“Yesterday at the vineyard, everything felt... right. Perfect, even. She was open, laughing. We talked. Really talked.” He set his mug down with more force than intended.
“Then last night, this morning... It’s like she’s pulled away completely. Like she’s already gone.”
His parents remained quiet, letting him speak without interruption. The dough made soft sounds as his mother folded and pressed it, the familiar rhythm soothing.
“I don’t know what to do,” Caleb admitted.
“Did something happen?” his father asked finally, his tone neutral, free of judgment.
Caleb thought of the almost-kiss, the way he’d chosen her forehead over her lips. “I didn’t want to rush her,” he said softly. “I thought I was being respectful. But instead, I pushed her away.”
Eleanor dusted flour from her hands and looked at her son with understanding in her eyes. “Or maybe you didn’t push her away at all,” she suggested gently. “Maybe she’s pulling back because she felt too much, too quickly.”
“What do you mean?” Caleb asked, though part of him already knew.
“Some people run from good things,” his mother said, returning to her dough. “Especially when those good things feel dangerous to them.”
His father nodded. “Your mother’s right. Not everyone trusts happiness when it shows up unexpectedly.”
“Hannah strikes me as someone who’s had to be careful her whole life,” Eleanor continued. “Someone who’s learned to protect herself by keeping her distance. By staying practical.”
Caleb’s bear stirred. She sees it too. The walls our mate builds.
“You’re right,” Caleb admitted, remembering how Hannah had spoken about her childhood. About being useful instead of carefree. About learning early that no one would catch her if she fell.
Thaddeus crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful. “When I met your mother, she was the most stubborn woman I’d ever known.”
Eleanor laughed softly. “I still am.”
“The point is,” his father continued with a small smile for his wife, “she didn’t trust what was happening between us. Not because it wasn’t real, but because it was too real.”
“So what do I do?” Caleb asked, desperate for guidance. Desperate to find the same love and acceptance his mom and dad had found all those years ago.
“Trust in fate. Trust in the bond you share,” Thaddeus said. “And trust in Hannah.”
His mother shaped the dough into a smooth round before looking up at him, her eyes kind but direct.
“What she’s feeling must be scary,” she said gently.
“Especially for someone who isn’t used to belonging anywhere.
She told me she’s moved around a lot. Never set down roots.
So the thought of doing that. Of changing old ingrained habits that have kept her safe. That’s scary.”
“You mean she doesn’t trust what she’s feeling,” Caleb mused.
“Because she’s never felt it before,” Thaddeus added, echoing Eleanor’s thought. “She’s always been self-reliant. And so to trust in another person and the way they make her feel. That’s a big step.”
His bear stirred, considering this. It’s like we thought. She’s protecting herself.
“She’s not pulling away from you,” Eleanor continued, wiping her hands on her apron. “She’s processing what’s happening between you. There’s a difference.”
Caleb let this sink in, feeling some of the tension ease from his shoulders. “I don’t want to push her,” he said. “But I don’t want to lose her either.”
His bear growled softly in agreement. We can’t lose our mate.
“What if I say the wrong thing?” Caleb continued, voicing the fear that had been growing since this morning. “What if I make the wrong move?”
Or don’t make the right move, his bear added unhelpfully.
Thanks, Caleb muttered.
Why hadn’t he just kissed her when she was right there in front of him?
He closed his eyes, remembering the scent of her warm skin, the desire in her eyes, the way she pursed her lips.
But he also remembered the brief glimpse of uncertainty he’d seen. And knew, deep down, he’d done the right thing.
No matter the cost.
Eleanor came around the counter then, flour-dusted hands gentle on his arm. “You’ll get it right. You’ll figure it all out. Believe me.”
Caleb’s expression softened. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all you need to do,” his mom said as she hugged him, careful not to get flour all over his clothes. “And trust in yourself.”
“Thanks, Mom.” He hugged her back and then looked up at his dad. “Thanks, Dad.”
“You know we’re always here for you,” Thaddeus said. “And we’ll always be here for Hannah, too. She’s part of our family now, too.”
“Even if she doesn’t know it yet,” his mother added gently, patting his arm one more time before returning to her bread dough.
“I should get back to prep,” he said, straightening his shoulders. The conversation had helped, even if it hadn’t provided easy answers. “And when Hannah comes in...”
“Don’t worry,” Thaddeus said, holding up his hands. “We will be discreet...”
“Absolutely,” Eleanor agreed. “You can trust us.”
“I know,” Caleb said, grateful for his parents’ understanding. And grateful they were there in his life.
That they had always been a constant he could rely on.
And he wished more than anything that one day, very soon, Hannah would know what it was like to have people she could trust, people who would always be there for her, supporting her.
And he was going to make her see that. No matter what it took.